Teasing and Repentance
by Laree England
Summary: Merlin is ticklish. Arthur naturally takes full advantage of this. He soon discovers his rough-housing has gone too far. A story told in three parts. Merlin and Arthur friendship.
1. Are You Ticklish?

"Remember, Merlin, there's no shortage of people who want your job."

Merlin adjusted his hold on Arthur's favorite red shirt. "No one would be able to do it as well as I do. How many more times do we have to prove that?" he asked, raising a brow.

A normal day in the chambers of the great once and future king. The curtains had been thrown open about a half hour before, accompanied by Merlin's uniform, "Rise and shine!", letting the summer sun filter in through the window. Merlin stood patiently in front of his prince and best friend. Arthur rolled his eyes and put his arms through the shirt, straightening it out once it was on him.

"George is a fantastic servant, Merlin," he argued, placing his hands on his hips.

"Well, yes, but he's not me," Merlin replied, raising a brow.

Arthur sighed and rolled his eyes. "I guess not."

Merlin picked up another shirt, smiling smugly as he folded it tightly. The smirk didn't pass from Arthur's notice, and, naturally, it instantly became his immediate goal to wipe it from his servant's face.

"No one can be as annoying as you are, Merlin," he said.

He walked past Merlin's right hand, casually poking him in the side.

The prince had expected Merlin to simply be annoyed and snap back with another witty remark, or spin around and whack his back with the shirt. He expected something, no, _anything_ but Merlin to leap a clear six feet away from him, holding up the shirt as if it were some sort of shield.

Arthur raised a blond brow at him. "Merlin...?"

The shirt slowly lowered to reveal his servant's blushing face. "Yes, Sire?"

"Are you..." he snickered a little bit. "Are you ticklish?"

"No!" Merlin had answered too quickly, and his eyes told Arthur that he recognized the mistake immediately.

Arthur approached him, and Merlin raised the shirt instinctively. Unfortunately, Merlin raised it too high, leaving his side vulnerable to attack. Arthur shook his head. He thought that after years of serving the best knight in Camelot, Merlin would have learned something.

Oh, well. His loss.

Arthur seized Merlin's side in his grasp and squeezed, causing Merlin's muscles to tense and and a high peal of laughter escape from his lips. The shirt fell to the ground as Merlin stepped away, his expression dropping like a boulder as he held up his hands towards Arthur defensively, his stone expression sending out a warning.

Arthur looked like a child being presented with a mountain of sweets.

"Arthur," Merlin said, his voice low. "I know what you're thinking..."

Arthur's grin just widened as he approached Merlin like a hunter after its prey.

"Arthur, Arthur don't—"

Arthur leapt forwards, and Merlin ran as fast as he could from Arthur's room, avoiding Arthur's hands by a centimeter and slamming the door behind him as an extra caution. A grunt of pain from the prince shot to Merlin's ears, slightly muffled from the thick door. He knew that that obstacle wouldn't delay Arthur long, so he sprinted down the hallway with as much speed as his legs would allow, running into a fellow servant and dumping their load.

"Sorry!" Merlin shouted behind himself in response to the servant's sounds of protest. "Matter of dignity coming through!"

"_Merlin_!"

Hearing Arthur's voice echo on the walls around him urged Merlin to keep his legs pumping fast. Servants and advisors who had been in the castle long enough to recognize when the prince and his servant were at it again knew to get out of the way and pressed themselves against the walls as Merlin blew by. They remained in their position, knowing that Arthur would soon come after. Once he did, they unflattened themselves and continued with the routine of a normal day, as if just a light breeze had passed.

Merlin dashed around a corner, weaving in and out of the slow trickle of servants and knights down the hallway. He shouted a series of rapid "Excuse me"s, "Sorry"s, and "Coming through"s, turning another corner as he heard Arthur's feet thundering behind him.

He passed by two guards, one of which he could not side-step in time, resulting in their chests crashing together rather painfully. Merlin spun over his right shoulder, taking a moment to place a hand on the guard's arm, assessing him.

"You must be new," Merlin concluded breathlessly, clapping his shoulder once before resuming his sprint down the hall before the guard had time to respond, calling over his shoulder, "You'll learn soon enough!"

As he leapt to his left and flew down that hallway, Gwaine and Percival's conversation paused in mid-sentence. Their expressions were those of amusement, ill-suppressed snickers bursting from them. Gwaine held up his right hand, his fingers ticking down as he said "Three... Two... One..."

Arthur tore out from around the corner, skidding for a moment before blowing past his knights. He could hear Gwaine's voice behind him shouting, "My bet's on Arthur!" Which was quickly followed by Percival's "May God have mercy on your soul, Merlin!"

Merlin's legs burned with the effort, and he could almost feel Arthur approaching behind him. If he was going to somehow escape from Arthur, he had to do so now. His mind began to think of all the places he'd hidden during past races for his life, all of which seemed to be inconveniently located on the other end of the castle. Merlin heard Arthur directly behind him, and he could feel the prince's fingers snag on the hem of his jacket. Merlin desperately turned another tight corner—

Almost running right into Uther.

"Sire," Merlin said breathlessly, bowing his head and looking sideways up at Arthur, who had screeched to a halt beside him.

"Father!" Arthur said at the same time as Merlin, not quite as out of breath.

Uther looked between the two with and sighed. "Boys."

Merlin would have laughed if he wasn't so out of breath. Uther spent a moment in silent observance, accepting the kind of relationship Arthur had adopted with his servant. He couldn't be resentful of it; after all, it was him who promoted Merlin to be Arthur's constant companion.

Uther let out another hefty sigh and nodded. "Carry on."

He walked around the two boys, and Merlin felt Arthur's hand drift up to his side.

"Nope!" Merlin shouted, bounding down the hall again and bursting out into the training grounds.

"Merlin!" Arthur called, finally catching up.

The ground seemed to come up and meet Merlin's body as Arthur tackled him. Merlin shouted Arthur's name in protest, struggling to try to escape. Arthur soon overcame Merlin's weak attempts, flipping him over and pinning him down.

"Arthur!"

The prince payed no attention to Merlin's protests, sitting on top of him and squeezing Merlin's side and stomach mercilessly. Merlin's high-pitch laugher echoed around the training grounds. Gwaine and Percival had gathered the rest of the knights, and they all grouped together on the grounds, holding their hands over their mouths, but that did nothing to muffle the sound of their hearty laughter.

"A-A-Arthur! Stop!" Merlin gasped, trying to push Arthur's hands away.

Arthur grinned down at him.

"No, it's too much fun..."

Just before Merlin thought he'd pass out from lack of oxygen, Arthur's weight was removed from his chest, and the young warlock was capable of breathing once more. Phantoms of Arthur's strong hands on Merlin's stomach and sides left behind a dull ache. When Merlin's breathing pace returned to normal and his heart no longer was attempting to break free from his chest, he heard Leon's voice ringing out across the grounds in a volume that made Merlin want to cover his ears.

"What do you think you're doing?" Leon yelled, the color of his face growing progressively red. His face was dangerously close to Arthur's, a fierceness in his eye that Merlin had never seen before. His eyes flitted to Merlin's and he could see the knight's muscles in his jaw clench before he glared back to Arthur. "I understand that he is your servant, that you may think yourself above him, that he is yours to command and do with whatever you wish, that you are king and he your subject, but you have _no right_," he jabbed Arthur's chest with the last two words, "no right to hurt and abuse him."

The grounds fell silent. All the knights, including Arthur, and Merlin wore the same startled expression. Arthur's face then morphed into that of a repenting and guilty child, his hands joining in front of his person. Then his expression matched Leon's, anger clouding his eyes. The flash of Arthur's teeth filled Merlin's vision as the king retaliated.

"You know I would never do anything to hurt him!" his voice didn't quite match his expression, sounding more hurt and offended than anything.

"Well, then, what are you doing?" Leon asked, crossing his arms and raising his brows.

Arthur opened his mouth to shout exactly what he had been doing when he realized how ridiculous and childish it would sound. It had made perfect, mature sense to him when he had been doing it, most likely because the action didn't seem as infantile as the word. It made him feel like a little boy, like when he had reached up to try to test out his father's crown, but it had actually slipped over his head to hang around his neck.

He hated that sensation.

"I wasn't hurting him," he grumbled. He looked back behind him to where Merlin was still sitting. "Was I, Mer—?"

He paused, his eyes widening. It wasn't until then that Merlin realized there were tears wetting his cheeks. Whether it was from laughing so painfully while Arthur was tickling him, from the way that Arthur had told Leon he would never hurt him, or a combination of both, he wasn't sure. Point was, there were tears, and the sorrow that outlined Arthur's eyes was too much for Merlin to bear.

"D-Did I... Are you okay?" his voice was soft and broken.

Merlin nodded quickly, wiping his face. "I'm fine, Arthur."

Leon stepped in front of Arthur, an authoritative look on his face, his voice stern but tender. "Merlin. What did Arthur do."

Merlin's eyes darted to Arthur's.

"The truth, Merlin." Leon said evenly.

Arthur spoke up. "I was..."

A moment passed where Merlin and Arthur looked each other in they eye, and after a twitch of Merlin's lips and a crinkle of Arthur's eye, they both burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?"

Merlin stood, standing beside Arthur and grinning as they told the tale. The further they progressed the more realization dawned on Leon's face, until they finished and the red in Leon's face grew, now from embarrassment.

"Please," Leon said. "Forgive me, sire."

"No need for apologies," Arthur said kindly, slinging an arm tightly about Merlin's shoulders. "It comforts me to know that I'm not the only one constantly worried about this sack of bones here," he gave Merlin's shoulders a squeeze. "If I ever do hurt Merlin, Leon, I'm counting on you to punch me as hard as you can in the face."

With that, he smiled cheerily and Leon, nodded to the other knights in acknowledgement, and held Merlin tighter to him as he walked back into the castle.

**Stay tuned for chapter 2!**

**Hope you enjoyed! Reviews are lovely.**


	2. A Beautiful Collision

**This is dedicated to my biggest fangirl, FlyingMachine1, who waited longer than most to discover the happenings of this chapter. I hope it doesn't disappoint, sissy!**

**(A/N): okay, realized my mistake with Uther and calling Arthur king and the presence of all the knights in the last chapter. Whoops. Sorry, chaps.**

**NOT SLASH I SWEAR!**

_"The heart breaking makes a sound,_  
_I never knew could be_  
_So beautiful aloud,_  
_Fury-filled and we_  
_Collide."_

A Beautiful Collision

Merlin's shirt came up as he reached for something from a high shelf. Gwaine happened to glance over at that moment, and a brush of color caught his eyes. The laughter that had just lighted his eyes fled from his irises. He broke from the group, sneaking up behind Merlin, trying to be as silent as possible. The rest of the knights continued to expand upon and laugh at their joke, but Percival's laughs were slightly delayed as he watched Gwaine. He was just about to ask him what he was doing when he noticed the soft way he was approaching. Then he thought that Gwaine may be about to pull a joke on Merlin and was going to warn him, but noticed that Gwaine wasn't looking back to grin at Percival like he normally did when he was up to mischief. There was a certain softness in his shoulders, a carefulness in the curve of his back, that made Percival believe that Gwaine was trying to find out something concerning, something he knew Merlin wouldn't tell the truth about if Gwaine were to ask him to his face.

Merlin froze as he felt a hand lift up the hem of his shirt.

"Merlin..." Gwaine gasped, his eyes wide as he was able to catch a glimpse of the colorful bruise that plumed across his lower back.

The laughter died from the knights as they spotted the mark as well. Merlin spun around, jerking his shirt back down and looking at the knights' horrified expressions with a return of a shamed one. He felt like all of them were interrogating him at once with their stares, and he looked down to avoid the questions. He tried to hurry away, but Gwaine caught him by his elbow and pulled him back.

"What happened to you?" Gwaine asked, his brows raised high behind his hair.

"Nothing," Merlin mumbled, looking at Gwaine in the eyes and shaking his head slightly in an attempt to convince him that he was telling the truth.

"Merlin," Leon said, crossing his arms. "You know that you're a terrible liar."

Merlin refuse to respond, looking down again.

Quietly, softly, as if speaking to a wounded animal, Gwaine said, "Take off your shirt."

Merlin just glared at him.

Gwaine didn't break his gaze. "Merlin."

Merlin swallowed and shifted his focus from Gwaine to the other knights, who all watched Merlin with the same, concerned, older-brotherly way Gwaine was. Knowing there was no way to get out of this, Merlin sighed. He removed the neckerchief first, laying it in Gwaine's already open palm. The hearts of the knights squeezed painfully as Merlin's face twisted into a wince, the process of taking off his jacket slow and painful. He rested the tan garment on a bench. The movement and effort it took to remove his shirt was worse, Merlin let out a short outburst of breath as he lifted his arms above his head, his shirt pulling up and off.

A collective intake of breath rushed through the small gathering of knights as they took in Merlin's marred body. His pale skin and the bright colors of the bruises that spanned across his chest and arms seemed to form some kind of grotesque artist's canvas. The knights tried to place what the cause may have been for these injuries when they saw one of the bruises on Merlin's arm was comprised of four lines, what they recognized to be caused by someone holding onto his arm roughly.

Despite Gwaine's efforts to remain calm, his voice sounded low and wavering as he said with a deadly look in his eye, "Who did this?"

Merlin shook his head. "Gwaine, please—"

Gwaine took a step closer. "_Who_?"

"Please, he doesn't mean to—"

"Arthur," Leon deduced, his jaw clenching.

"He doesn't know. He didn't mean to—"

"I'll talk to him," Leon said, completely ignoring Merlin and beginning to move out of the armory.

"No, Leon!" Merlin stepped forwards, but Gwaine caught his arm, Percival soon holding onto the other. Merlin strained against them, but his scrawny and hurting form was no match for the knights. "Stop!"  
.

.

.

He knew this would happen. He knew that Arthur would one day go to too far. He had known for a while. He should have stopped it before it happened.

Leon was already in front of the doors to Arthur's chambers. Fury must make him move fast, because he couldn't quite remember making his way there. His muscles twitched and tightened as he tried to calm down. Maybe Merlin was right, maybe Arthur truly didn't know what he had been doing. Arthur was so used to only getting into fights with knights during training. Maybe it was a result of this fact that had caused Arthur to be too rough. Whatever the cause, storming into the prince's chambers unannounced and red-faced probably wouldn't be the best course of action. He calmed himself, taking a few deep breaths.

He knocked three times on the door, waiting until he heard the prince's welcome. He opened it, placing his hands behind his back and holding himself up tall and proud how years under the Pendragons' command had trained him to default to.

"Ah, Leon," Arthur greeted, setting his quill down. "What news?"

"Permission to speak and act freely, sire." Leon replied coolly, staring straight ahead.

Arthur blinked. "Of course. You know you need not ask."

"I was just making sure, sire," Leon said before taking in a breath, his eyes looking back to the king.

"Recall what you told me to do if you ever hurt Merlin?"

.

.

.

"He didn't mean to," Merlin said again, looking down at his hands as he sat on a bench.

"Why didn't you tell us, Merlin?" Percival asked, sitting adjacent to the still-shirtless servant.

"Because I knew that this," he gestured around him angrily, "would be how you all would react! It's not a big deal. It doesn't even hurt."

At this a huff of disbelief came from Gwaine.

Merlin glared at him. "You guys get beat up a lot worse than this on a daily basis."

"Yes, but we're not you, Merlin," Elyan said, putting a foot up on a bench.

Merlin looked grumpily down and away.

"We just care about you," Gwaine said quietly.

"I don't need you to care about me. Contrary to popular belief, I really am capable of taking care of myself."

"We can see that," Percival scoffed, his eyes still looking at his bruises.

Merlin's jaw clenched.

If they only knew...

.

.

.

Arthur's hand flew over his eye. "Dammit, Leon!" He stood and walked away for a moment, the stinging pain still shooting from where Leon's fist had crashed into his face. "What the hell was that for?"

Leon shrugged. "You told me to do that if you ever hurt Merlin."

Arthur's uncovered eye flitted to Leon's, the complete confusion on his face sharing space with concern.

Leon drew in his breath. "Come and see."

.

.

.

The knights were still talking to—no, more like "at"—Merlin, about how he should be more careful, how he should never allow such a thing to happen, how he should have told Arthur the minute that he hurt him the first time, but he had stopped listening. He didn't like how the knights thought he needed to be put under a layer of protection. He didn't like how the knights felt that it was their duty to carry out said protection. He didn't like the thought of Arthur knowing what he had done to him.

He hadn't really thought much of the first bruise that Arthur had brought to him. It didn't hurt, just a little mark on his arm. The bruises had kept coming, though. Each one a little more painful than the last. The severity of the marks had escalated in such a gradual way in the time he had spent with Arthur that Merlin guessed that he had always just adjusted to the ache that they had brought. He had been lucky enough to only receive one or two upon his face, but they were so minor that they were nothing that he couldn't brush off if Arthur had ever asked how he came by them, just say that he ran into a door or something else idiotic and Arthur would completely believe him. He couldn't say the same for the other bruises, though. He was sure he had all the colors of a rainbow over his body, and each time Arthur would wrestle him again or give him a simple, good-natured pat on the back Merlin would have to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out.

Even with these facts in mind, he still thought that the knights, in all reality, at least Merlin's in opinion, where really overreacting. It made him feel small and weak. He wondered if that's what he was in the knights' eyes. None of them knew how powerful he really was. Maybe, to them, he really was like a delicate artifact. Fragile. In need of care.

If only they saw how powerful he truly was...

"Merlin...?"

It was Arthur's voice. Merlin cringed, becoming aware of the fact his shirt was still off of him. He looked to the doorway where Arthur stood, seeing a large circle of red covering one of the king's eyes. Leon stood just behind him, not giving any sign of repentance, yet had an air of guilt about him. Merlin decided to ask later.

Arthur approached Merlin slowly, as if coming towards a spooked animal he was afraid of scaring away. Each bruise on Merlin's body, even the concealed ones, seemed to burn with guilt, even if the fault for them being there was in no way his. No, it was the guilt of allowing Arthur to see them that made him bow his head in shame as Arthur slowly roved his eyes over Merlin's unclad chest and arms. Merlin stood, the phantoms of excuses already forming on his lips, but was silenced by the expression on Arthur's face. Arthur removed the leather glove and extended it cautiously. His fingers rested upon Merlin's arm, fitting in perfectly to the yellow and free lines there. Arthur's flesh was warm and strong against Merlin's. The knights watched in silent respect. Merlin flinched slightly away from the gentle pressure, his eyes flitting up to Arthur's face and then back down once again as he registered with a drop of his stomach that tears had begun to march into Arthur's eyes.

Arthur's voice was so high and quiet with worry that Merlin almost mistook it for a whistle of wind. "What have I done?"

Merlin had never seen the king cry before. Arthur always was the strong one, able to disconnect his mind from his emotions whenever the going got rough. But something about seeing Merlin hurt, knowing that he was the cause for it... Something within him had shattered: the thick glass case he had armored his heart with. Merlin's light had filtered through the window that had encased Arthur's ability to care, and had taken solid form, breaking out from within, completely exposing Arthur's pure, raw emotions.

Neither of the pair were able to answer to question. Merlin wished beyond anything to assure Arthur that he was okay, that this was simply the result of fun with harmless intentions, an accident, a trick of the light, but the way that Arthur's deeply-rooted emotions and feelings for him were now being brought so clearly forth silenced him.

Merlin's eyes rose again, meeting Arthur's vulnerable stare. Question after painful question flew one after the other through Arthur's mind. How had this happened? Why had Merlin not told him? How long had this gone on for? How badly was he truly hurt? How had he—Arthur— so suddenly become an abuser? These questions came without any echo of answers, and they seemed not to come in the form of words, but more in the way of ideas, or emotions. This was Merlin, _his_ Merlin. This was his light. His hope. His best friend. His brother. The piece of his existence that he had not known he so desperately needed until he already had him. The thought of losing him had always been unbearable, perhaps even from day one. And now to imagine—no, to _know_— that he had damaged this innocent and loyal soul that held such importance to his own, in however benign or sever a way, it made him... It made him feel... Hurt. From toe to top he ached and burned.

It was then that it finally clicked for Arthur, what Merlin had known from the beginning from the lips of a dragon. Perhaps he had always known it in his subconscious, but now it was defined in blinding clarity. Arthur was no longer his own. He shared an existence, a soul, a destiny, with the man in front of him.

In the next moment Merlin was in his arms. His emotions finally could no longer be held back, and his tears fell from his eyes and streamed onto Merlin's bare shoulders, rolling down the contours of his colored back.

The knights were stunned. They had never seen Arthur come within a mile of being this exposed. To see him break so completely and irrevocably, especially to one most would consider to only be a lowly servant... They couldn't form coherent conclusions around the thought.

Merlin's arms wrapped around Arthur, and his hands clutched onto the king's shirt as soon as he felt the wetness on his back. Arthur's face buried into Merlin's neck, and Merlin cradled the back of the blond's head, for the first time in the life he knew with Arthur, he took on the role of the strong one, the protector. Underneath all the other emotions, some part of Merlin wondered if this was what it would be like if he told Arthur about his magic, of course, that was, if Arthur was accepting of it. This was the definition of perfection. In that moment, all walls were broken, nothing barred them from existing as two halves to a greater whole, their hearts joining in what they would both later describe as a beautiful collision.

Arthur pulled away, holding Merlin's neck lightly in his hands and bringing Merlin back to him, squeezing his eyes shut as he pressed his lips to Merlin's forehead. Merlin remained still, not from discomfort or shock, but in an attempt were unwelcome. Arthur's forehead was then rested against Merlin's, the bridges of their noses touching for just a moment.

Arthur broke the silence with a low whisper, not from the desire to be secretive, but from true inability to speak any louder, words that had never come from his lips before in his life flowing freely.

"I love you, Merlin."

Merlin's eyes looked up into Arthur's, the latter's filled with sincerity and vulnerability. The emotion to be expected to rise in the young warlock would either be confusion or disbelief. However, only pride welled inside him. Pride and an immediate almost instinctive return of what Arthur had just professed.

He nodded, the skin of his forehead skidding slightly against the king's. "I love you, Arthur."

Arthur's thumb brushed across Merlin's cheek, removing a tear that he hadn't known had fallen. Smiles spread across the lips of both simultaneously, and Arthur placed a hand on Merlin's shoulder, squeezing it as a proud older brother would, and just like that their roles had flipped back to normal. Arthur could never have wished for a more perfect brother.

And neither could Merlin.

**(A/N): to clear up any confusion, Merlin received the bruises from Arthur being to rough when he's messing around and wrestling with Merlin. **

**Stay tuned for chapter 3!**


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